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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24457231">known in its aching.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinsu/pseuds/rinsu'>rinsu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Consensual Sex, M/M, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:22:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24457231</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinsu/pseuds/rinsu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A gentle night.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes/Roadhog | Mako Rutledge</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>known in its aching.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was listening to Wasteland, Baby! by Hozier and thought of these two, so I churned this out in intervals over the past few days. I’ve never written them before and I don’t know if I will again, so they might not be entirely in character, but I tried my best. I hope you enjoy.</p><p>No warnings, I believe, but proceed with care.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roadhog pried his eyes away from the uneven expanse of Junkrat's chest, grunting as he carefully settled onto the motel bed. Junkrat prattled on, gushing about their latest heist, his eyes searing holes into the wall as he rigged mines across the entrance. The motel was far out from other junker territories, on the outskirts of a recently abandoned town; it wasn't likely they'd be found, but it made Junkrat feel safer, so Hog gave no protest.</p><p>He stared at the ceiling, saturated with mold and clumps of dust that hung from the uneven plaster, and let his eyelids fall shut. There were a few more clicks, the telltale sound of triggers being put in place, and then a dip in the mattress beside him. He opened his eyes to see Junkrat hovering over him, his eyes full of something bright and strange, an emotion that Roadhog couldn't place, even after all this time.</p><p>That was something, at least. Junkrat always somehow managed to surprise him.</p><p>"Hey, hey," Junkrat said, flopping over on Roadhog's stomach, his inconsequential weight barely registering. His ribs dug into the hard but pliant flesh, and by instinct Roadhog reached up to wrap a hand around his waist, tightening his grip just barely, just enough to put slight pressure around Junkrat's body.</p><p>He grunted in response, unsure of what to say. Whatever came across, it elicited a small giggle from Junkrat, who traced the lines of his tattoo with his flesh hand, his cheeks flushed, his mouth bearing a grin.</p><p>"You alright there, Roadie?" he asked, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of his stomach. "You're awful quiet."</p><p>At that, Roadhog snorted, which seemed to please Junkrat - he bounced and buried his face in Roadhog's stomach, one hand gripping the sheets and the other splayed across his thigh.</p><p>"We did real good out there, huh? Fucked them up nice."</p><p>Another grunt. Roadhog's thumb caressed the stark curve beneath Junkrat's chest, his fingerprint dragging across the divots of his ribs. They'd been eating well lately - lots of good heists, the past few months, a streak of good luck that Roadhog hadn't thought possible before it happened - but Junkrat didn't seem to gain any more weight, still the same sickly thing he always was. Roadhog thought it strange and pleasant at the same time - he liked how small Junkrat was, how easy it was to grab him and toss him around, to grip his wrists, his thighs, his waist like they were nothing.</p><p>But he was also very careful. He'd killed people with his bare hands before, many of them much larger than Junkrat, snapping their necks with one hand, ripping their spines out, tearing through their ribcage. His hands were killing hands, so he was gentle when he grabbed Junkrat. He placed all his thought and instinct on the weight of his palms, memorizing the warmth of the taut skin beneath them, the sharp planes and hollows of Junkrat's body. It was his charge, Junkrat's safety, and Roadhog let it overtake him entirely, his every thought, his every movement, entirely possessed.</p><p>Junkrat shuddered as Roadhog dragged one finger down the knobs of his spine, a groan rumbling inside his chest.</p><p>"Hog," he said, a little desperate. "Mako."</p><p>Roadhog shushed him, and for once in his life Junkrat listened, leaning into his other palm as he lifted it to stroke his hair. Grease and grime clung to his fingertips, but he liked it all the same - it wasn't often that Junkrat was this pliant, this accommodating to the slower facets of intimacy. He always strived to please Roadhog, but in the only way he knew how - fast, full of intensity and drive and fervor, desperate and ragged. It occured to Roadhog that before him, Junkrat never really knew touch could be gentle.</p><p>The thought rankled inside of him, and he drew a deep breath that rattled in his lungs.</p><p>"Here," Roadhog muttered, sitting up. He scooped Junkrat into the crook of one arm and shifted them, gently resting Junkrat on his back. The whole time, Junkrat squirmed and twitched, eager to get on with it, and Roadhog satiated him with soft strokes of his fingers along the other's stomach, his arm and thighs.</p><p>"You going soft on me, Hog?" Junkrat teased, but Roadhog refused to take the goad. He knelt between the other's thighs and gently caressed the skin, lining the scars littered everywhere, ones he'd already seen and ones he hadn't. Always something new, with him.</p><p>He leaned as best he could, careful not to set his full weight on the body beneath him, and lifted his mask off, pressing his lips to Junkrat's collarbone. A thin hand ran through his hair, and Roadhog could hear the uneven breaths crashing against the column of Junkrat's throat, could feel the <em>want</em> in his fingertips, in the way he writhed beneath him.</p><p>He suckled the skin, sweat and gunpowder permeating his mouth, and groaned, feeling himself harden in his pants. Junkrat gently clawed at his shoulders, urging him on wordlessly. Roadhog grabbed his wrists - so thin, so fragile that Roadhog could break them with the snap of two fingers, both bone and metal - and pressed them into the sheets, hovering above Junkrat. He said nothing, but by the way Junkrat stilled he seemed to understand - Roadhog wanted to savor this, wanted to make Junkrat feel good in a way only he could, in a way that served for more than a quick fuck, more than the usual clawing and biting and choking. He liked that, sure, but this - Junkrat's body unraveling beneath him - was the closest to heaven he could get in this wasteland.</p><p>"Hog," he murmured, craning his neck to press fluttering kisses along Roadhog's broad shoulder. "Please."</p><p>Roadhog brushed a finger against Junkrat's lips, prying them apart, and Junkrat moaned, eagerly coating it in saliva. He lifted his hips and shimmied out of his shorts, baring himself entirely - Roadhog tugged his finger away and brought it down to massage Junkrat's rim, gently prodding the tight entrance. Junkrat's body jerked, and he wiggled his hips, pushing himself down on Roadhog's finger. But Roadhog held him in place, a heavy hand on his chest, not enough to hurt but enough to keep him still as he worked him open at an agonizing pace. Junkrat whined, his fingers curling around Roadhog's wrist, but still there was no leeway.</p><p>Roadhog couldn't fix the outback, and he couldn't heal Junkrat's irradiated skin, his sloping spine, his cracked, blackened nails - but he could give him this, at least. He could give him tenderness, could give him slow, languid pleasure. It was a small, inconsequential mercy, but still more than he'd ever gotten.</p><p>"Come on, now you're just teasing, fucker," he breathed, his face flushed. Roadhog shushed him, pushing his slick finger in further, all the way to the knuckle. Junkrat gasped, his head lolling back onto the sheets, his hair splayed wildly like a crown around his face.</p><p>Roadhog searched inside of him until Junkrat shrieked, his entire body tensing and then going limp, his thighs shaking - and he knew he'd found the sensitive bundle of nerves. He stroked it once more before pulling away, and nearly smiled at the resounding whine at his absence. He hummed, this time pushing two fingers past the tense rings of muscle, relishing in the breathless moans and noises that slipped past Junkrat's teeth, the arch of his back, his hands twisting the sheets. Roadhog didn't think much about how Junkrat looked - not in an abstract sense, anyway, not whether he was beautiful or not. Roadhog knew how he looked and he liked it, and that was that.</p><p>But like this - desperate and wanting for something, staring up at him, his eyes half-lidded and reverent - it was perfect, as perfect as anything Roadhog had ever seen.</p><p>"No," Junkrat murmured, and Roadhog paused carefully. His fingers slowed to a stop but didn't pull out, and his chest twisted. Had he hurt him? Was it too much?</p><p>"'M close," Junkrat continued, closing his eyes. "Wanna cum with you inside."</p><p>Roadhog heaved a short breath of relief and nodded, leaning down to kiss him, on the lips and the cheek and the forehead, remnants of his warmth clinging to Junkrat's skin. "You will," he said.</p><p>Junkrat whimpered, his hips bucking. "Already so close."</p><p>"You will," Roadhog repeated, and continued to thrust his fingers in and out, angling so that he lurched against Junkrat's prostate with every motion. Junkrat cried out, squeezing his eyes shut, his thighs tightening around Roadhog's. His cock, hard and dripping with precum, bobbed against his belly, and Roadhog grabbed it in his palm and began to stroke, building a rhythm between both his hands.</p><p>"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Junkrat groaned, twitching all over. "Please, Hog - fuck, yes, right there - <em>fuck.</em>"</p><p>He came, spurts of hot cum splattering on his own chest, on Roadhog's stomach. He went limp, his eyelids falling shut, his ragged breaths steadying somewhat. His hips shifted up and down unconsciously, flinching as Roadhog gripped them with both hands, pressing his fingers into the hollows where his skin sunk down to cling to his skeleton. He thought of the sound of bones shattering in his palms, thought of the strange sensation of bloody, torn flesh ripped apart by his own hands, and he sighed, rubbing feather-light circles into Junkrat's stomach.</p><p>"Hog," Junkrat murmured, his hands drifting lazily to Roadhog's shoulders, gripping and massaging the tough muscle.</p><p>Roadhog let him settle for a moment, pressing him into the mattress, letting the tremors fade from his body, and then searching between his thighs again, pressing the pad of his finger to the throbbing, slick hole. He blinked down at Junkrat, whose eyes blew open, and the two of them stared at each other silently, as though no words existed to describe the warmth coursing through their bodies, as though the thought of their bodies pressed against each other like this was enough to fill the space of the whole room, was enough to fill the Outback itself.</p><p>"Yeah?" Roadhog whispered, pushing his finger in past the rim. Junkrat twitched, nodding, grappling at his shoulders to pull him down into a kiss.</p><p>This time, Roadhog pulled away, shoving at his waistband until his cock, hard and aching with disuse, flopped out. Precum coagulated at the tip, smearing onto Junkrat's stomach as it bobbed there for a moment. Junkrat's head lifted, and he grinned, reaching out for it, wrapping his warm flesh hand around the shaft and stroking, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, his cheeks flushed pink. Hog rocked into his touch just barely, closing his eyes at the rush of sensation rippling across his nerves.</p><p>"Please," Junkrat whispered, parting his thighs wider, his ankle and the dull end of his prosthetic digging into each of Roadhog's hips.</p><p>Roadhog hummed, a deep, low sound that rumbled through him, and positioned himself evenly between Junkrat's thighs, pressing the head of his cock to the trembling, slick hole and sinking in just slightly. Junkrat arched, trying to push his body down, but Roadhog easily held him in place, rubbing his thumb soothingly against his collarbones as he whined. As slow as he could manage, he inched his way in with tiny, even thrusts, until he'd bottomed out. He groaned, watching the barest outline of his cock poke through Junkrat's thin stomach, so large that it seemed impossible to fit.</p><p>Junkrat let out a high pitched moan, twitching and bouncing desperately, wanting for more friction, and Roadhog began to move a bit faster. Still slow, by their standards, but enough to build a rhythm.</p><p>"Hog," Junkrat choked out, flushed and damp with sweat, his voice reedy and desperate. "Please, please - I need - I need -"</p><p>He let out a shriek as Hog adjusted his hips, presumably brushing against that one bundle of nerves that drove Junkrat insane; he adjusted himself to maintain that position and kept going at the same steady pace, holding Junkrat down to keep him still, keep him patient. He hummed as Junkrat's moans and shrieks grew increasingly louder, relishing in the sight - the way the light settled over him, illuminated all the parts that Roadhog rarely focused on. He paused for a moment, despite the protesting whine that warbled from Junkrat’s mouth, because  he thought that maybe it was important to do so. They were in the Outback, after all, where death was at best likely and at worst certain, and Roadhog or Mako or someone, somewhere inside of him, was in love with Junkrat, and whoever it was - he seemed to need this, in a way Roadhog had never needed anything before.</p><p>The urge to quicken his pace grew as his orgasm drew nearer, but he refused, taking pleasure in the slow, languid friction on his cock. Junkrat groaned, grappling at anything he could reach - the sheets, Roadhog, himself - and moaning unintelligible words until he came with a shout, his eyes squeezed shut, his lips parted. Roadhog growled, and just a few minutes after, buried himself inside of Junkrat as much as he could and came, his vision blurring at the edges, his body feeling like an anchor in the sea, pressure caving in on all sides. But it was good, good pressure, a good sort of ache as he pulled away from Junkrat, eliciting a small, pleased moan, and tipped over onto the bed beside him, making the whole room tremble.</p><p>For a moment, neither of them spoke. He heard Junkrat's lungs heaving in and out, felt his hands fidgeting with the sheets beside him, and reached a hand to grip the thin forearm, squeezing it as gently as he could manage.</p><p>"Hog," Junkrat said, bringing his other hand, his prosthetic, to squeeze back. "Hog.”</p><p>Roadhog hummed, and pressed the pad of his thumb into Junkrat’s wrist, feeling for the faint thrum of his pulse. He found it, and sunk into the rhythm of it, listening as Junkrat’s breaths evened beside him, pulling him towards a deep sleep. He felt the small, warm body curl into his side, both metal and flesh fingers lightly digging into his stomach.</p><p>“Night,” Junkrat murmured, his voice sluggish. </p><p>Roadhog stared up at the ceiling, watching the low light shift and fracture along the uneven plaster. Warmth lingered in the tips of his fingers, reaching even the dredges of him, parts he didn’t know existed, had forgotten were even there. He stroked up and down Junkrat’s shoulder, and hoped that he understood what that meant, somehow, in his own way. </p><p>“Night, Rat,” he echoed back, and let the grainy song of the wind outside lull him to sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Edited by myself, all mistakes are my own. </p><p>Comments/kudos keep me going. Thanks for reading.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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